Three Whole Words and Eight Letters Late
by foxyhawes
Summary: OTP alphabet challenge. "Him and her and never 'them'; an endless pile of almost-interactions." Multi-chap.
1. A is for

_Hi again! My last fic was depressing as fuck so hopefully this little OTP alphabet challenge will make up for it. I've never tried a proper multichap before so idk how I am when it comes to updates and I'm très busy right now because year 11 and exams and coursework but it's half term atm so we'll see how it goes. Enjoy! xo_

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_**three whole words and eight letters late**_  
A is for... _Attractive_

From behind his computer screen, he watches her, examining every move she makes and subconsciously counting each breath she takes. Harry Cunningham is a man of science; he knows emotions are nothing but nerve impulses, he knows 'love' is nothing but hormones and pheromones, he knows Nikki Alexander is just his friend... But that doesn't stop him.

He's always admired the way she worked, from paperwork to post mortems (he ignores the tiny voice inside his head that silently begs her to hold his heart as softly as she holds the hearts of the victims she examines, as soppy and clichéd as it sounds). There's a look of concentration etched on her face every time that he's never seen in anyone else before. It is determination. It is the need for answers. It is relying solely on your job to provide some sort of purpose in life.

Every now and then she'll look up from the file she's working on, glance at something on her computer screen, then look back down again, chewing lightly on the end of her pen with brows furrowed in either confusion.

And then repeat, each time filled with more frustration than the last_._

There's something about his colleague that Harry finds fascinating. Completely, utterly and wholly fascinating, and when he looks at her for too long he finds himself unable to focus on anything else. A bomb could hit the lab and he wouldn't jump at the noise, Leo could whack him round the head with a file and he wouldn't flinch, the world could crumble around him and his gaze would not be redirected; at this moment, and many others if he's honest, Nikki is everything.

"Harry, word in my office, please."

Well, _almost_ everything.

She looks up, taking a moment to glance at the work on his desk that he still hasn't completed, then at him, all bright green eyes and unwavering blush. A certain look dances across her features, one that says 'do you even do any work while you're here?' He exhales deeply in mock frustration and makes his way to Leo.

"Yes?" He sighs once he reaches the doorway to Leo's office.

"Sit down," Leo instructs with a wave of his hand towards the chair on the opposite side of his desk. Harry looks back at Nikki for a second then does as he's told, face mirroring that of a child who is about to receive a bollocking from his dad. "And tell me, honestly, are you planning on doing anything about it?"

"About what?"

Closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead in exhasperation, Leo sighs deeply. "The fact you have done nothing all day except stare at Nikki. You've got a stack of files on your desk that you need to look at and you've barely touched them! Look, I know you think of her as more than just a friend bu-"

"That is ridiculous! I've done some work... the odd report here and there. So what if I happen to glance up at Nikki sometimes? She's an attractive woman, what do you expect?" Seemingly pleased with his quick response, Harry shrugs his shoulders leans back, folding his arms as he does so.

"Ah, so you admit you find her attractive?" Leo asks, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly.

"Yes! Well... I mean... You know, she's nice to look at."

"Oh, really?" Leo replies with a smug glint in his eye. "Then what is it about her that is so _nice_?"

Harry shrugs again, this time not as pleased. "I don't know, there's a few things I suppose..."

"You like her hair, yes?"

"Yeah, I guess." Harry says slowly, eyes narrow, brain whirring with a million possible reasons for Leo's sudden interest.

"And... I don't know... her eyes?"

"Mm-hm."

A light blub suddenly flicks on in Leo's brain, illuminating even the darkest corners, the parts that have spent years thinking of ways to get Harry to just admit how he feels. "And you like her?"

"Yes," Then a heartbeat. "Wait, what? I mean... no, no, not like that. I just-" He stands so quickly it's a miracle he doesn't end up too dizzy to walk in a straight line and heads for the door, leaving a chuckling Leo in his wake. "You know, I've really got to get that report finished otherwise I'll be here all night." A pause. A sigh. "You're a cruel man, Dalton."

Leo laughs again, louder this time. "Oh, Harry? Either tell her and then get some work done or I'll tell her for you, God knows you've felt that way for far too long. We both know that to you she's more than just another _attractive _woman."

Sure enough, as soon as Harry is seated at his desk again, his eyes are drawn to Nikki once more, his eyes more thoughtful this time as his conversation with Leo sinks in deeper and deeper as one word rings around his head over and over again: shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

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_Sorry this is so short, believe it or not this took me an age to write. I'm trying not to change any of the prompts so some chapters will be better than others I'm afraid. Well, there won't be any more chapters unless I get some reviews, let that be my way of showing how much of a review whore I am. Until next time, lovelies. ;-) xo_


	2. B is for

_Did I mention this fic isn't in chronological order? So if you get confused just forget the parts are supposed to fit together ok because as one-shots they'll still work. Ugh even I don't have a clue and I'm the one writing the bloody thing. Ok, let's go, have fun!_

_**three whole words and eight letters late**_  
B is for... _Baby_

It is on a dreary Tuesday afternoon that Nikki Cunningham sits at her desk (well, Harry's desk) thinking about everything except the report she should be working on. She thinks about the fact Janet's birthday is in just over a week and she still doesn't know what to buy for her. She thinks about the crime scene Harry was called out to a few hours previously and idly wonders how many bodies he'll return with. She thinks, with her hand resting upon her belly and a small smile on her face, about the tiny human growing inside of her...

And then, about the fact she still has absolutely no idea how to tell her husband.

Her smile slips a little.

Even Leo had been acting strange with her recently (which makes her wonder if her boss knows more than he's letting on), yet Harry had stayed the same with her.

Harry never changes, really. He teases and irritates her at work and then does things like start mini food fights when she's trying to prepare dinner at home. _God, when she thinks about all of those things he almost sounds like a child himself._ But then she remembers the other side to him, his secret side that very few know about. The side that harbours all his emotions from his childhood and turns him into someone who protects her and loves her and treats her like she is the single most important person in his life. Someone who she just knows will be an incredible father.

Then she wonders: would he be scared that the stress of having a child to look after would turn him into his own father? Would he be concerned about the fact they'd barely been married a year and they're already jumping straight into having a child? Would he ask her to-

"You know, death is really inconvenient sometimes," Comes Harry's voice gliding through the lab towards her. He walks slowly, a mixture of exhaustion and a rain-soaked coat weighing him down. In his hands are a pair of wellies caked in dripping mud, creating small dark puddles each time he takes a step. He sighs and sits down heavily, lacking the energy to comment on the desk situtation like he usually would. "Actually, dead people in general. Would it really be so difficult to try and at least get murdered on a lovely sunny day so it's easier for us?"

"If it wasn't for the inconvenience of death, we wouldn't have jobs." Nikki responds quickly, mind dragged back to the present.

"I suppose you're right. But if we didn't have jobs, we could be at home right now, doing all the things normal married couples do. Like..."

"Arguing?"

"Hmm, we don't argue much... Do we?" Harry's bad mood seems to dissipate quickly as Nikki moves to the desk he is sitting at and perches on top of it.

"We don't spend enough time alone together to argue, there's a difference," she reaches out to pull Harry's hand onto her lap, fingers tracing haphazard circles across his wrist and palm. "I feel like I've barely seen you these last few weeks. Everything's been so hectic."

"Well," He begins, standing to move between Nikki's legs and pull her closer until they're practically fused from the waist up. "Tonight I'm feeling a take-away, crappy film and a bottle of wine. Care to join me?"

He says it with such sarcastic sincerity that she can't help but laugh and press a small kiss to his lips. "Sounds perfect."

(Minus the wine, of course. She suspects this is going to be a long night.)

By 9pm Nikki is already starting to experience the kind of exhaustion that only pregnancy can induce; her head against Harry's chest and her arm thrown across his stomach as they sit curled up on the sofa, a random comedy playing on the tv that she lacks the energy to find amusing. Her eyes flutter shut every now and then until she remembers the task at hand and she's fighting to stay awake.

She has to tell him tonight.

He's noticed her quietness. She hasn't been right for a few days now. She's been... different. Secretive, almost. It worries him to the point where he considers just asking her what's wrong. He ignores the fact he's scared of what her reply might be.

"You okay?" He asks quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear that has fallen free. Nikki almost jumps at the sound of Harry's voice, his words breaking her out of her trance. "You barely ate any of your dinner and you haven't touched your wine. What's up, Niks?"

_Well, no time like the present _she thinks.

"Do you remember years ago, way before we got together, we had a conversation about the things we wanted in the future?" She whispers, as if she's scared of the weight of the words she's saying. "I said that deep down I'd always wanted a fairytale ending, and that when I was younger I'd dreamt of having a nice big house and a husband who'd never leave?"

Of course he remembers. He'd spent every day since that conversation making sure he'd giver her the fairytale she craved.

"And you said that one day you wanted..." She continues, until her words fade. She looks away then, her eyes focusing on a very interesting pattern on the wallpaper. Her next words sound distant, and for a second Harry wonders if it's him she's talking to or herself. "A child..."

"Nikki, are you saying what I think you're saying?" She can't work out the tone of his voice and that frightens her.

His question feels like a gun being pointed at her and she knows she hasn't got enough time to dodge the bullet.

So she bites it instead.

"I'm pregnant, Harry," her eyes finally make contact with his and she's almost afraid of what she'll find lurking within them.

"We're... You mean... We're having a baby?" He says it with such wonder, like a child himself, that she fights back the urge to laugh.

A single nod. A smile. An "oh my God!" A feeling that neither of them want to forget.

Nikki's surprised when she realises she's crying. She doesn't notice until Harry's thumb makes contact with her cheek and he's wiping a tear away.

Lips pressed to her forehead, he whispers: "Thank you."

"What for?" She asks in an equally hushed tone.

"For making me happier than I ever thought I could be."

Nikki smiles so much it makes her cheeks ache. She mentally kicks herself for allowing herself to believe Harry would be anything but happy with the news, she reminds herself that he's always wanted a family too. She kisses him and he says the same three words so many times it's like a broken record playing in her mind, stuck on the same line: _I love you, I love you, I love you. _It's all such a rush of happiness and excitement that she forgets everything else that's going on in the world for a moment.

She decides then that moments like this are the reason fairytales were even created. And why people make poetry, art and bad song lyrics.

It is the feeling of love and contentment and happiness all rolled into one.

It is the knowledge that you have finally found your _forever._

_Now, my cunning plan was to actually post a new chapter every week, but that idea went out the window because my nan died literally the day after I posted the first chapter so, as you can imagine, things have been a bit hectic since then. I also apologise for all the cheese; my H/N fics are either horrifically depressing or sickeningly sweet, there is absolutely no inbetween. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. (PS, in the next chapter they won't be a couple, but obviously whether they're together or not, every chapter will be about the fact they desperately fancy each other and don't know what to do about it.)_

_To conclude my rant, thank you for reading and please leave a wee review. xo_


	3. C is for

_I changed the prompt for this chapter because I didn't like the other one, but Christmas is used very very loosely in this. It wasn't originally supposed to be angsty, I just got a bit carried away. I can't handle 100% fluff, so this fic is gonna be a bit of a rollercoaster! I apologise this update took so long, I've had such a stressful time recently that my writing brain has just given up, this was really fucking difficult to write. Nevertheless, if you happen to enjoy it, cheers in advance. xo_

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_**three whole words and eight letters late**_  
C is for... _Christmas_

Every year, Nikki Alexander dreads the Lyell Christmas party. And this year certainly isn't an exception. However, the party somehow ended up being thrown at Leo's house this time, which in a strange way makes it seem less unbearable. It could be the familiarity of the setting, the fact she's been to Leo's house many times before and feels comfortable there, or simply the fact she knows he has an empty spare room upstairs where she can stay if she gets so ridiculously drunk that she simply cannot be trusted to make it home safely.

The walk up the path to Leo's house feels a lot longer in heels that are a little too high and a coat that doesn't keep her as warm as it probably should.

Janet is by the door as soon as Nikki steps into the house, passing her a large glass of red wine as she hugs Leo and wishes him a merry Christmas. He takes her coat and points in the general direction of the living room where she can already see a mass of people and hear a chatter filtering through the loud music that is playing, some guests more steady on their feet than others.

She wears a new dress that night.

It's really tight and really expensive and she doesn't think Harry will notice.

But, of course, he noticed the second he saw her.

(He tries to ignore the fact that every other man in the room noticed too.)

He finds it slightly ridiculous how much of his attention is drawn to Nikki the second he becomes aware of her presence. So much so that the tall brunette he was previously talking to suddenly fades into nothingness until he can faintly see her lips moving but is rendered unable to decipher the words she is saying. It's like his brain is so wired up to the sound of her heels clicking against every inch of tiled floor and cobbled pavement that he can't help but search for the source... Search for her.

Their eyes meet for a second across the room of drunk colleagues and he witnesses the ghost of a smile catch on her lips, before she notices the woman next to him and quickly casts her gaze down towards the floor, pretending to fiddle with a loose thread on her dress. He quickly apologises to the brunette, makes up some terrible excuse about going to get another drink, and starts to make his way towards Nikki. That is, until another man gets there first. Someone from toxicology, he suspects. He vaguely recognises his face and attempts to remember his name...

_Sigh. _

Harry notices then that he is still standing in the center of the room with no destination, what with Nikki being a little pre-occupied and the brunette having gone and found another man to aimlessly flirt with. Hastily, he makes his way over to the drinks table, which, coincidentally, happens to be directly opposite to where Nikki is standing. He sees her laugh at something Mr Toxicology has said and feels a sudden rush of anger, the kind that has been known to make him take it out on a wall with his fists or on Nikki with harsh words and tones, the kind that scares him to the point where he begins to consider whether it's normal to feel these kind of things where his colleague is involved.

It gets worse when Mr Toxicology's hand finds its way to Nikki's waist, and he's looking at her in a way that makes Harry's stomach turn and his blood boil. He knows exactly what he's thinking. It's the same thing most men think when they see her. They think about her looks, failing to see behind the laughter and the flirting, and they decide to test her and see how far she'll go. They don't think about the little, important things; like the way her cheeks go slightly pink when she lies, or how brilliant her laugh sounds when it's genuine, or the fact that every time she watches _Love Actually_ she cries without fail and for at least five minutes.

Harry then mentally kicks himself for allowing his brain to think in this way, his mind barely able to wander a few feet before it bumps into the memory of a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment during the last time they watched the film together three days ago; she'd just stopped crying and it was all a rush of tear-stained cheeks and shaky laughter and at one point he wished he had the guts to close the tiny gap between them and kiss her. Alas, he did not, and at the end of that evening, Nikki went home and nothing else had been mentioned since.

All it takes is one more glance at Nikki and Harry suddenly can't stand to be in the room anymore. The air becomes thick with his anger and he can almost feel his clenched fists shaking at his sides. He rushes to the back door, not missing the worried look Nikki shoots at him as he storms past, the door slamming ever so slightly behind him.

* * *

The night sky looks like sticky tar when she steps out into the garden, the bright stars caught within it a stark contrast to the darkness surrounding them. The cool air hits her skin like a train at full speed, enveloping her in a frosty embrace as it provides her with some clarity despite the confusion leaving her brain in a tumultuous muddle.

He was watching her, wasn't he? When she was standing a few feet away from him talking to another man, Harry Cunningham was staring at her with a strange look in his eyes; a mixture of jealousy, anger and something else she couldn't quite decipher at the time. Perhaps she's overreacting, perhaps she's just listing the things she'd _like _to see in his eyes, as opposed to the things that were actually there.

_Oh God, when did things become so complicated?_

It isn't like she was particularly interested in Peter, she even struggled to remember his name when he first approached her. She finds it difficult to pinpoint a precise reason why Harry would be jealous of something like that. Does she ever feel that way when she sees him talking to another woman? (Well, yes, but she'd never tell him that.)

Seconds pass and she already begins to wish she'd brought her coat outside with her, but all thoughts and feelings leave her when Harry turns to face her, his expression unreadable and, quite frankly, she isn't used to not being able to know what he's thinking just by looking at him.

"Having fun?" He deadpans, his eyes lingering on her for a moment, before turning to gaze at the trees at the end of the garden in a lifeless stare, his jaw slightly clenched.

"No, I'm not, actually. What is wrong with you? It's Christmas, Harry, at least try to enjoy yourself."

Nikki's words are harsher than intended, a hint of anger lingering behind the disappointment. A part of her regrets it straight away, like the sound of them leave a bad taste in her mouth.

A deep sigh. A quick glance at the floor. Another half-sentence to add to the endless list of almost-declarations.

"How can I possibly enjoy myself when you-" He begins, tone like venom.

"This is the first time we've spoken since I got here, what could I have possibly done that has pissed you off so much?" Her eyebrows raise then, lips ever so slightly parted. "Are you jealous?"

"Jealous?" He laughs. "Jealous of what? You and Mr Toxicology hiding in the corner all over each other? Dream on."

"You're are jealous!" She smiles, she's only teasing him, but somehow it feels like more than that. Then again, somehow it _always _feels like more than just teasing when a situation like this arises between the two of them.

"I am not jealous, Nikki!" Harry turns to look at her again then, the corners of his lips twitching as if trying to fight off the urge to smile. "I'm... Merely enjoying the view out here."

"Oh, of course, yes, you just _love _standing in the freezing cold at night with an empty pint glass in your hand. Not to mention the fact it's pitch black, therefore there isn't even a view to enjoy." She's babbling now, for some reason she can't seem to drop the subject. It's almost like she wants him to be jealous of the thought of her being with other men.

"You know what else I love?" Harry asks, taking a step closer to her, feeling her warmth straight away.

"What?" She replies, also taking a step. His face is so close to hers she can almost make out the green in his eyes despite the darkness, the close proximity making it difficult to take steady, even breaths.

"I just _love_ it when you shut up for a minute and give me some peace."

"You git," She laughs, punching his arm lightly as he moves away, both of them left reeling from the lack of closeness.

"Anyway, shouldn't you be inside with loverboy? I wouldn't want to get in the way of a beautiful romance."

"Hm," She ponders. "Nah. It's Christmas, you're supposed to spend this time of year with someone you care about, aren't you?"

"Aw, I'm touched." He replies, placing his hand on his heart in a sarcastic manner.

"So, for that reason, I'm going to find Leo instead. I wouldn't want to ruin your enjoyment of the view out here now, would I?"

And just like that, she's leaving, the moment thrown away like many others before it. Him and her and never 'them'; an endless pile of almost-interactions.

"Well, merry Christmas to you too. Tart." He says the last part under his breath, refusing to allow himself to be _that_ guy who turns around and watches her walk away.

He hears the sound of her heels getting closer behind him again, and he mentally prepares himself for a slap in the face. Instead, he feels her arms snake over his shoulders from behind, his back to her front, and notices a sprig of mistletoe clasped in her hand. He can feel her breath on his cheek as she presses a light kiss to his jaw, and _oh God_, is he glad it's dark out here.

"Merry Christmas," she whispers, her chin resting on his shoulder. "You irritating old sod."

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_This is probably really OOC but I don't even care, I'm having so much fun playing around with these two. :P I'll try to make sure the next chapter is up soon, I know exactly what's going to happen in it so it shouldn't be too difficult. xo_


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